Fire Inside (Chaos #2)(6)
Fucking gorgeous, every inch, and she tasted and felt as good as she looked.
She grinned.
Gorgeous.
He returned her grin, slid through the door and went after her car.
When he got back, she was dead to the world.
He took off his clothes, dropped them to the floor and slid into bed beside her. Carefully, he turned her into his arms.
She didn’t wake. She just cuddled closer, her arm snaking across his stomach then holding tight, her torso pressing into his, her knee cocked and resting on his thigh.
This felt good, too.
She was right. They shouldn’t sleep together. Sleeping suggested something more. A kind of togetherness neither of them wanted. Sleeping like this with her, it feeling so good; it was, with everything else, enough to make you want a f**kuva lot more.
So it was good, Hop thought, that they weren’t sleeping, they were just resting.
On that thought, he fell asleep, Lanie curved close and held tight in his arm, her perfume all over his sheets.
* * *
Three hours later, Hop woke.
Lanie’s perfume was still all over his sheets.
Lanie just wasn’t in them.
* * *
That night Hop was stretched out on the fluffy cushion on the lounge chair in her courtyard, feet crossed at the ankles, eyes trained to the back door of the garage.
He had no idea how late it was. He just knew it was dark and he’d been there a really f**king long time.
Too long.
Long enough for him to get pissed.
Or more pissed.
He heard her garage door go up and didn’t move when he heard its grind or when he heard the purr of her sweet ride moving into it. A pearl red Lexus LFA. According to word on Chaos, her father had bought it for her.
High class ran in the family. So did money.
He only moved off the chair when he heard the garage door going down.
He was on his feet when the outside lights to the courtyard that separated her brownstone from the garage came on but he didn’t move from his spot even as the door to the courtyard opened.
She strode out, sex on stilettos; tight skirt, tailored blazer that was unbelievably feminine, hair out to there; slim, shiny, expensive briefcase in her hand; trim, small designer purse over her shoulder.
A Cosmo girl tricked out in business gear.
“Yo,” he called when she shut the door. He watched her jump and swing around to him, face pale, eyes huge.
“Oh my God, Hop. You scared me half to death.”
He didn’t reply.
When he remained silent, her face lost its pallor. Her head tipped to the side and her brows knitted as she asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Told you, I wasn’t done with you,” he answered and her head immediately righted with a snap.
“Hop—” she started.
“Told you that,” he cut her off. “Still, you snuck outta my bed and slunk away.”
She took one step toward him, her body moving like she was going to take more but she suddenly stopped.
“I said just one night,” she reminded him.
“And I said I wasn’t done with you,” he fired back.
“I—” she began but he interrupted her again.
“You had dinner?”
Her head jerked in surprise then she answered, “Yes, a business dinner. New client.”
“Good,” he grunted. “Upstairs. Naked. Now.”
He felt it coming off her in waves.
She wanted that.
Bad.
Then her head moved again like she was forcing herself to do it, shaking it side to side. “We agreed. One night.”
“I think we also agreed, though the words weren’t spoken, one night’s not enough.”
“This can’t get complicated,” she reminded him.
“You keep your mouth shut, I keep my mouth shut, we’re smart, we contain it, no one finds out, and we stick to the boundaries, it won’t.”
“I don’t think—”
“Lanie. Upstairs. Naked. Now.”
He saw her breath come fast, her chest moving with it and Jesus, f**k him, he could taste her excitement and he was five feet away.
“We shouldn’t—”
“Fucked you on your back. Like to look in your eyes when I’m inside you. Done that. Now I want you on your knees, gonna f**k your face and your cunt and I can’t do that in the courtyard. It’d shock the shit outta me, class act like you gets into that but if I get you naked, you’re all mine. I don’t share with the neighbors.”
She stood stock-still, her eyes riveted to him. The only thing moving on her body was her chest, rising and falling with quick breaths.
“Lanie,” he leaned in, “upstairs. Naked. Right… f*cking… now.”
She took off toward her sliding glass door.
Hop didn’t move but he did smile when she dropped her keys, cursed under her breath and crouched in that tight skirt to get them.
Second go, she got in and left the door open as she hurried inside.
Hop stared at the door before taking a deep breath and walking to it.
He got inside and saw it was a big kitchen, living, dining area. He saw the clock on the microwave said it was ten forty-two.
He took no more in.
To make sure something that could get complicated didn’t, he understood that this wasn’t what he was going to take or what she could give. He didn’t get to look at her shit, check out pictures in frames, see if she was clean or messy, read what he could in how she decorated.